


I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it

by usuallyproperlyhydrated



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, are jane and petra friends?, are they secretly in love with each other?, are they ~sisters~?, brief cameo by JR, it's anyone's guess!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallyproperlyhydrated/pseuds/usuallyproperlyhydrated
Summary: Post-Chapter 85. Rafael kicks Jane out and Jane ends up at Petra's.





	I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inamamagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamamagic/gifts).



Jane doesn’t know where she’s going when she gets into her car, stumbling away from the house she and Raf had picked out and moved into and decorated together. She could go home. Abuela should be asleep by now, so she wouldn’t have to explain her presence there. She could go to the hospital, curl up on the bed with her mom and let herself be comforted.

But instead, Jane ends up in the parking lot of the Marbella and she knows she isn’t there to see Michael.

“Petra?” she calls tentatively as she knocks on the door.

It takes a minute before the door swings open and Petra is there dressed in a men’s dress shirt and nothing else.

“Oh!” Jane’s eyes widen. “Things with JR are fixed then?”

She attempts a smile—she wants to be happy for Petra—but her lower lip wobbles and ruins the effect.

Petra’s blissful expression is immediately replaced with furrowed eyebrows. She steps out into the hall and closes the door behind her. “Jane, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s…” Jane can’t bring herself to say “It’s nothing,” so she waves her hand and begins to leave. She can spend the night at Abuela’s.

“Jane.” Petra softly touches her shoulder to stop her from going. “What is it?”

“You’re busy.”

“I _was_ busy, but JR’s dead asleep and I’m already up, so make it worth my while to have answered the door.”

Something about Petra’s no-nonsense tone makes Jane spill everything in a low voice: Xo’s collapse, her feelings for Michael, not sending in the divorce papers, Rafael’s sulkiness turning into something bigger and more unpleasant, Mateo’s insistence on staying with his dad.

“This never would have happened if I had just sent in the papers or told Michael no or sent Jason away in the first place,” Jane says through tears. “And now Mateo… He’s old enough to decide who he wants to be with and what if he always picks Rafael? What if Rafael gets tired of waiting for me to make up my mind and he takes Mateo away?”

“Then we’ll lawyer up and make him regret ever being such a gigantic asshole,” Petra replies.

“He’s not being an asshole,” Jane says. “He’s hurting.”

“If his reaction to you needing time to process and decide is kicking you out of the house in the middle of the night, he’s an asshole.” When Jane opens her mouth to argue, Petra interrupts her. “Trust me. I’m the resident expert on assholery.”

“What do I _do_?” Jane asks, weariness almost overcoming her.

Petra puts her hands on Jane’s shoulders and looks her squarely in the eye. “We’re going to go inside and get you some pajamas, then you’re going to go into the suite next door and sleep, and we’ll figure out something in the morning.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“You look like you’re going to keel over any second,” Petra says skeptically. “Come on.”

She puts an arm around Jane and pilots her into her suite.

“I’ll be back in a second,” she whispers.

Jane stands in the entryway, numb, until both Petra and JR emerge from Petra’s room. They’re talking quickly and Jane can’t make out what they’re saying.

“It’s fine,” JR says, putting on her shoes. “I have an early morning anyway.”

“You don’t have to go,” Petra says. “Please don’t go.”

“It’s not forever.” JR kisses Petra’s cheek. “Just for now so you can focus all your attention on Jane. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“But…” Petra seems to struggle to find the right words.

“It’s family stuff. It’s important.”

“But you’re important too!”

“I know.” JR gives her another kiss. “I promise I’ll stay over tomorrow night. Okay?”

“Okay.”

And with that, JR slips out the front door.

“I’m sorry,” Jane says. “I didn’t mean to mess up your life too.”

“You haven’t messed anything up,” Petra says, although her expression is forlorn enough for Jane to not quite believe her. “Anyway, you can stay here with me and we can get drunk again if that’s appealing right now.”

After making such a huge mistake while intoxicated earlier that day, Jane is less than eager to have a repeat performance. But she’s also tired of carrying around such a huge emotional burden and would like for it to become inconsequential, at least for a night.

“I don’t want to get drunk,” Jane says. “Can we just sit?”

“Of course.”

Petra gets Jane some yoga pants and a t-shirt after changing into something more comfy herself and they sit on the couch.

“It’s my fault,” Jane says after a long silence.

“Nuh-uh,” Petra says. “We can talk about it as much as you want, but you aren’t allowed to blame yourself. Those are the rules.”

“Why are there rules?”

“Because I said so.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“You did. If you wanted sympathy and hand-holding, you should’ve gone to Alba or Xo. But you came here so you’re going to get the full Petra experience and that includes rules.”

“Fine. I won’t blame myself out loud. What other rules are there?”

Petra considers the question for a moment. “I guess that’s it.”

More silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but Jane is so used to filling the space between her and Petra with noise—arguments, bargainings, maneuverings.

Petra must be feeling similarly, so she says, “We could turn on a movie or something? A telenovela?”

“No thank you.” Jane has had her share of logic-defying life twists and turns lately. “What do you like to watch?”

“You can’t make fun of me.”

Jane smiles then and teases, “I will if it’s completely ridiculous.”

“Fine. I like cooking shows.”

“Really? _You_?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not exactly the warm, domestic, keep-the-home-hearth-burning type.”

“So? I don’t have to be a housewife to enjoy them.” Petra’s tone is creeping toward being prickly and she struggles to dial it back. “We don’t have to watch them either. We can go to bed.”

“No.” Jane touches Petra’s knee in apology. “That sounds perfect, let’s do it.”

Jane expects the cooking show to be soothing, something to distract her just enough from thinking about the whole Rafael/Michael situation that her brain will let her sleep. But Petra, being Petra, picks a competitive one and soon Jane is completely engrossed by the drama unfolding before her.

“Why isn’t he starting over?” Jane demands. “He can’t serve that to the judges, they’ll eat him alive!”

“He doesn’t have time to start over,” Petra says. “It’s either serve them that or don’t serve them anything at all.”

“Whatever he does, he’s totally going home this week. He’s been struggling to keep up for two episodes now and if he doesn’t get kicked off, I’m going to riot.”

“I’ve seen this season before and I have bad news for you.”

“No!” Jane flops over dramatically, her head close to Petra’s leg. “That’s not _fair_.”

The dialogue on the TV fades to the background and the feeling in the air shifts around Petra and Jane.

“That’s not fair,” Jane mutters into the cushion. “It’s not fair. None of this is fair.”

Petra’s hand twitches briefly, as if she’s thinking of touching Jane, then stills. “I know.”

Jane turns so she’s on her back, looking up at Petra.

“Petra, what am I going to do? Every choice seems wrong. No matter what I do, someone will get hurt.”

“I’m not exactly the person to talk to about not hurting people,” Petra says wryly. “At this point, I spend most of my time doing damage control for all the mistakes I’ve made. I don’t think I could name one person in my life I haven’t screwed over in a significant way.”

She moves her eyes away from Jane and says in a measured voice, “Your intentions are good, Jane. And even if Michael is crushed or Rafael is furious, neither of them will walk away thinking you’re cruel. They love you too much and they know you love them, even if it’s messy.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Jane quotes bitterly as she sits up and tucks her feet underneath her. “And right now, that feels pretty accurate.”

“It’s not exactly hell, though, is it? No matter what you choose, your family will still love you. Rafael’s being an asshole now, but he would never actually try to take Mateo away from you. And if you told Michael to get lost, he’d give you that wounded puppy dog look but he would leave anyway. Nobody’s going to die because you make one decision over another.”

“What if it’s not about one decision over another—what if I pick the actual wrong choice?”

Petra plays with the corner of a blanket, still not looking at Jane. “There are no wrong choices. I mean, there _are_ —holding someone hostage and blackmailing your husband and murdering your sister are obviously wrong choices—but for everything else? You make the decision you make and deal with the consequences. As long as you don’t shoot Rafael or push Michael off a balcony, you’re probably making a good decision.”

“I hate this.” Jane lies back down on the couch. “I hate everything about it. Is running away to live in a cave a good decision?”

“It’s not the worst decision. You could also throw Michael and Raf into a pit and make them fight to the death.”

Jane cracks a small smile. “I thought you said my decision couldn’t include death.”

“Oh right. They can fight until they get maimed or something.”

That makes Jane laugh out loud. “That’s not better!”

Petra smiles too; less widely than Jane, but smiles nonetheless. “Maybe you’re onto something with running away to the cave. Not forever—whose ear would you talk off?” Petra ignores Jane’s indignant “hey!” and continues. “But for a while. Maybe a break would be good for you.”

The idea of a break from the constant insanity of her life makes Jane sigh wistfully. If she could only put the world on pause for a week (or a month) until she figured things out…

“I can’t,” she says at last. “Not now, with my mom in the hospital and my abuela’s heart breaking and everything else.”

Petra gently places her hand on Jane. “I know.”

Hesitantly, Petra begins tracing patterns on Jane’s back. When Jane doesn’t move away or say anything, her movements get more decisive. The repetitive motion causes Jane’s breathing to slow and her eyelids to droop. Sleepily, she reaches up and takes Petra’s free hand.

Petra squeezes and lets go.

“I’m no good at this,” Petra says as Jane’s grasp on the waking world becomes more and more tenuous. “This comforting stuff. So don’t come back tomorrow expecting me to be able to fluke my way into it again. Tomorrow we’re going to put a battle plan together and it will probably involve morally dubious schemes.”

“I love you too,” Jane murmurs as she finally drifts off to sleep.


End file.
